A Look into the Realm of the Unknown
by TWbasketcase
Summary: Who was the most misunderstood character that day? Solid proof that not all appearances are what they seem. One Shot.


**Title**: A Look into the Realm of the Unknown  
**Author**: TWbasketcase  
**Rated**: T  
**Summary**: Who was the most misunderstood character that day? Solid proof that not all appearances are what they seem. One Shot.  
**Disclaimer**: I do not own the Breakfast Club or the characters. I am fully aware that corporate bastards own them and I never will. So no suing allowed thank you.  
**A/N**: Got this idea while writing 'Next Time Around'; please read and review!

**A Look into the Realm of the Unknown**

He sat in his car breathing heavily and slouched in his seat. His shoulders were visibly slumped and each exhalation left his lips a dancing huff of pale white steam. His hair was borderline disheveled and his forehead rippled with strong throbs of pain. He wasn't sure the _exact_ source of his head ache, but he knew this was just the beginning to another start of a never ending cycle.

He opened the door to the 1980 Camero and stepped out quickly – subconsciously rubbing the small of his back – where it was beginning to ache with years of wear down and stress.

He wasn't all _that_ old – he just felt that way.

He walked briskly to the front steps of his house to escape the cool March air. It wasn't an overly extravagant home; it was a two story, red brick house with three bedrooms, a basement, two bathrooms, and a barbecue out back; the normal, every day home that houses a small family…no big deal.

He struggled through the four or five pockets scattered throughout his clothing trying to remember where he had put his keys…he just had them in the car did he not? He sighed heavily until he heard the familiar jingle rise from his back pocket. He fit the keys into the knob of the front door and entered, stopping momentarily to take in his surroundings.

The house was quiet. There was no smell of dinner cooking, no dog wagging his tail at his feet. No family was there to greet him at that particular moment. Just screaming silence bounced off the walls of his home, and inwardly he frowned. _He had no one to take care of him._

He pushed his shoes off of his feet and set his briefcase down next to the door; it was the best spot for it really considering he had to lug it around with him everyday…and it wasn't like anyone else was going to disturb it. He pulled his coat off of his shoulders and set it neatly on the peg stand at the end corner of the front foyer. He shuffled into his living room taking in the morning paper that had been sitting there on his coffee table – unfolded – since 6:00 this morning. It was the only out of place item in the room.

He sat down on the two cushioned couch and propped his feet up over the paper. Even though he had been sitting for most of the day, it felt nice just to sit down on his couch and take in the silence…momentarily.

The day was long and seemed to drag a bit; although his company today was no real help to that. They were loud and obnoxious and total oblivious to the world.

He remembered back to a day when he was once that way.

_He had been a fairly good student; not a very quiet boy by any means. He had been part of his school drama club, loved history and class debates; he even had quite a few girlfriends then as well. High school was a pretty fun, yet scary time for him – not out of the ordinary for any teenager. He had his aspirations then and he did everything in his power to get them._

_He had graduated high school with a 3.7 grade point average which was enough to earn him a spot on the honor's list. He had decided right then and there he wanted to go to University in Chicago and had worked his way through four grueling years. _

_But it had its perks._

_It was there that he had met Diane; she was beautiful, leggy, intelligent, and had the most infectious laugh he had ever heard. He had met her at the homecoming football game and from that moment on they had been inseparable. They had spent spring break together, went on dates to local diners, saw drive in movies together. Those were the days when he felt carefree and happier then he can ever remember._

_In the summer of 1961 they had gotten married at a small church in Shermer. It was a pretty small ceremony, but he could never remember her ever looking more beautiful. Radiant, and smiling, and dancing her little heart out late into the night. It was a night neither of them would forget._

_The next year he had landed his first job outside of University at 23 years old. He had been doing a lot of part time work, and even accepted a job in the library for awhile: anything to get his foot in the door. They had accepted him there with open arms and a nice starting salary. Life had been good; he had a good job, Diane was five months pregnant and they were saving up to buy their own house. They had their eyes on a beautiful two story, red brick house. It was the perfect place to start their own family, and had plenty of room for a couple of kids…maybe even a dog._

_His first three years on the job had been a lot more stressful than he had anticipated. He would work strenuously all throughout the day trying to garner participation and co-operation from those he had to work with, and then would have to spend hours a night at home trying to get paper work done, and prepare everything for the following day. It was not easy with a stay at home wife, and a toddler running around._

_Diane would complain to him that she missed him and wished he would keep his work at work. He had missed his child's first steps the other day, and couldn't for the life of him hush her when she cried. He had no idea why he had _no control _over his family and why they had always – somehow – make him feel like he didn't belong there. _

_He put a roof over their heads, and food in their mouths…that was enough, right?_

_He remembered rubbing his temples in vein trying to look through the day's work; how Diane would always complain to him that they needed more money and how she wanted to do things for herself sometimes. Sarah would just cry and cry her little heart out and he couldn't for the life of him figure out why. This would go on for hours and hours until he would reach his boiling point and lash out on her._

_He had never hurt her physically, but after his fifth year on the job and nothing at home changing much, he reached his boiling point a lot more frequently and his outbursts would turn into screaming wars with his wife. Him wondering why she couldn't keep the house tidy during the day while Sarah was at school…and why his bank account got smaller and smaller; he wasn't buying that much food or clothing._

_Time at work wasn't fairing any better. His hard work and dedication to the job didn't seem to pay off at times; with his superior co-workers getting on his back, his students always playing games, classroom equipment not working…at times he felt like he was doing everything for nothing._

_Two years later he had gotten news that his mother had been diagnosed with a terminal illness and needed to be hospitalized. His parents were rural farmers and just didn't have the money to pay for hospital care. Once again, he had one more soul to take care of. He had helped place her into a permanent room in a continuing care unit. He had tried as hard a he could with regular visits, but with her ever growing bitterness, his problems with his wife, plus his enduring job, plus his little girl…sometimes he just couldn't find the time, or the energy. He was in his early thirties and feeling older than ever._

_Ten months later his mother died. It had been awhile coming, but that didn't ease his pain. Her last few weeks of life had been very difficult for him; she had been in a world of suffering and was to the point where she was oblivious to her loved ones and surroundings. In a way he was happy that she was out of her misery, but she was still his mother by all means…the woman who had brought him into this world, raised him, and loved him through everything. His father was devastated and fell into his own pit of misery. He had taken up drinking and became very emotional and verbally abusive towards his son. The funeral was very small, but through it all he had never felt more alone in his life._

_Diane had _seemed _to try and be supportive with him, but their marriage had turned into a distant one where love seemed almost non-existent. He had no idea what she spent her time doing during the day when Sarah was at school. They got into more verbal spats then ever, and he was making a regular habit of sleeping on the couch – and his daughter definitely took notice of this. _

_He could tell she hated the fighting; problem was she always took her mother's side. Her mother was the one always there for her – the one she could talk to. Dad was just the one with the pay check that checked in on her every once in awhile. The almost ten year old was developing a rather rich social life at school where she had a lot of friends. She spent as much time as she could playing outside with the neighborhood kids, or visiting other little girls from school. _

_Not only was he never seeing his wife…he rarely saw his beautiful little girl either._

_He was a work-a-holic and becoming more and more bitter as the years went by – and he was fully aware of this. No matter how hard he tried, the people at work got _more and more arrogant _and this too had it's affect on him. He was beginning to wonder exactly he been thinking choosing this profession, and why he was losing faith in all humanity around him. He figured maybe he was just hitting his mid life crisis early._

_Ten years went by and it was still happening. In fact, so much so, that he had found out his daughter was running off with her delinquent boyfriend, and his wife had been having an affair with a 28 year old. He had lost both women in a span of two weeks. Three months later the drinking had caught up to his father as well…and he was the lucky son of a bitch left with his debts and funeral arrangement. It didn't surprise him very much when he was the only other person that showed up besides the Parker's down the road. His father had turned into a mean, nasty old man never quite getting over his mother's death._

_The only thing he had left was his job._

_He had gone to work day after day letting his personal life intrude on his professional mindset. He was so sick of seeing lucky, rich kids who pissed and moaned about everything. He hated watching the extremely smart kids waste their brains away on dope and other drugs. The only ones who made sense to him were the ones who acted like complete loners (why waste your time on obnoxious people anyways?), but even they made no attempt to make his job any easier. Most of his classes had no better than an overall B- average, and rarely did they ever take his lectures seriously._

_After awhile, with just about everything getting under his skin, he realized he had been on the job nearly twenty years and had the seniority. He had the authority and power over these people and he was sick of letting it go to waste._

_It was all he had left._

Richard Vernon sat back on the couch and rubbed his face roughly with his hands. He sat there in his living room and thought about this same damn thing day after day; he wondered often about what he had become. This day was different. He had sat down and spoken with his co-worker, Carl, and Carl had helped him to open his eyes.

Well, sort of.

He for one had already realized what he had become. He already knew that he was a hard ass, that he was bitter and miserable. It just really opened his eyes to have someone else say it to him out loud.

The five students he had in detention today were no exception to the other students he had acted overbearing to. He realized that the kids were not _really _all that arrogant; he just got ticked off a lot easier these days. He had been in their place before, and in a way he envied them. They were still fresh meat and new to the world, having yet to experience the world for what it really was.

Sure he was a prick, and sure he pushed his weight around…but being pushed and taking things the hard way is what got people to where they wanted to go. He didn't want to see people fail, really. He didn't want to see people waste potential, really. He didn't want people to have a lucky break and then get hit in the nose with reality so hard it would make their head spin.

No, not like him.

He wouldn't wish his miserable life on anybody.

"_I make $31,000 dollars a year, and I have a home, and I am not about to throw it away on some punk like you."_

He knew his words were empty to a guy like Bender. Bender did have a lot of potential and could go places if he _wanted _to. He didn't want to. Richard got so mad at Bender today…he took it to a point he had never taken it to on another student before. But as much potential as Bender had, Richard knew that he wouldn't make it.

Bender had a pretty good idea as to what the world had to offer him.

He just made it a regular duty for himself to bring everyone else down with him…including Richard. Bender knew how to get under his skin and make his already strenuous job even more stressful, and for that he took all that pent up frustration, anger, sadness, and bitterness out on him.

For a kid that was going no where he was a pretty easy target.

He was shaken out of his thoughts by the shrilly ring of the phone. For a moment there, he had almost hoped that it was Sarah. He rarely ever spoke to her anymore, save for the calls on Christmas, Thanksgiving, and his birthday. She was the last piece of him there, and even though he hadn't been able to claim the father of the year award, he still missed her terribly. He slowly pulled himself from his seat and walked over to the phone with that last glimmer of hope.

"Hello?"

"Good evening, sir! I was just calling to let you know the heart and stroke society is now accepting donations to run our annual garage and bake sale! Are you interested in making a donation today?"

Vernon took a deep breath as that silly glimmer of hope he had was ripped away. His frown returned to his face and he placed a hand on his hip, "A garage sale? A Bake sale?"

"Yes sir! All for the patients with heart and stroke conditions!"

He rolled his eyes, "I'm sorry…but I don't think a muffin is gonna miraculously save them all." He slammed the phone down on the receiver and sunk back into his couch and sighed.

A never ending cycle.

_**FIN**_


End file.
